I might as well mention the fact that I have never seen a Montenegrin or Albanian take off his clothes before retiring for the night. I believe, except when one of these people buys a new suit, he never does, on any occasion whatever, undress. The poorer people, who never do indulge in new suits, merely patch up the old while on them.
The next morning, at daybreak, we swallowed some boiling coffee, and prepared for the march. Our toilet was simple enough: as Jones said, "All I have to do is to rub in dubbin on my boots, and sling on my pocket filter, and I am ready."
It was a bright, sunny morning. This change of the weather was very welcome to us, wet through as we had been, night and day, since we left Scutari. Half-way between Helm and Podgoritza a river crosses the plain. The rapid water has eaten for itself a deep, narrow channel with perpendicular sides. This forms the frontier between Turkey and Montenegro. We crossed this torrent on a well-made bridge, in whose centre was a stone, on one side of which were inscribed the arms of the mountain principality, on the other side the star and crescent of the Sublime Porte. From here we saw, far away over the plain, the minarets of Podgoritza, standing out white against a background of dark Montenegrin mountains.
It was not long before we were outside the town. It had been a dreary morning's march. The plain, which with care might return much to the agriculturist, was left bare and uncultivated. One need not search far for a reason. We were on the frontier, on the scene of perpetual border frays. He who sowed here would sow for the whirlwind only.
PODGORITZA.
Page 177.
Close to the town was a rough sentry-box; out stepped a Montenegrin sentry, quite a boy, and challenged us. We amused him by showing him our passports, which he gravely considered, first upside down, then sideways; then he held one up to the sun, then shook his head and returned them. He questioned Marco as to what we were. "These are consuls Inglesi," replied the faithful one; "English consuls on the spree." This was sufficient. We were saluted and allowed to pass.
I believe that throughout our stay in Montenegro we were invariably taken for English Consuls, on a sort of happy-go-lucky holiday; anyhow, we were highly appreciated by all the natives we came across.
It was very amusing to hear Marco explain us to inquisitive people. Some passers-by would stalk by us—too polite and proud to stare or show any surprise at our appearance; but having passed us, they would stop Marco, and whisper to him, "What are these men?" "Great diplomatists," would reply Marco, with dignity. "Consuls Inglesi. That one in the spectacles is the head diplomatist. All great diplomatists wear spectacles, you know."
We passed through the ruined walls which surround Podgoritza, and marched down several badly-paved streets to the chief khan of the place.